Living With Revenge
by MonsterGirl3100
Summary: NO SLASH! ONE SHOT! Sam gets back at Dean for something that happened a few minutes ago, Dean gets back at Sam for something that happened years ago. Pranks! Haircut! Sam [Bad Summary, i know!] Rated T for language.


**Pleas enjoy and review! Constructive Criticism please!**

Year: 2005/2006

_Pffft pfft pfffffffffffffft, _Sam blew at his bangs that were forever falling in his eyes as he browsed his computer. Dean lifts an eyebrow over to his brother, Sam unaware of the eyes on him. Sam's fingers still clank and clack away at the keyboard of his laptop. _Pffffft pfffffffft,_ again he blows at the hair in his eyes. Dean's patients start to grow thin until it dissolves into nothing.

"Sam!" Dean shouts.

Sam nonchalantly looks up and over to dean who sits tense on the cheap motel mattress.

"What?" he asks.

"If you blow your freaking hair one more time I will rip it from your freaking head," Dean huffs out a puff of excess frustration.

Sam simply gives Dean a sneaky smirk and turns back to his computer. A few minutes pass and again Sam, _pfffffffft pfffffffffft, _at his hair.

"I will go Chuck Norris on your ass if you don't stop that," Dean threatened.

Again, Sam turned around, waited a few minutes then started with his hair again. But this time Dean didn't hesitate to grab the nearest item, a pen, too throw at Sam's head. Sam quickly turned around looking at Dean in disgust.

"Blow your hair again and you will regret it, you need a haircut," Dean said as a promise.

Sam knew the threat in his statement was empty and continued to blow at his bangs, or so he thought.

Year: 2012/2013

They sat in the dining room of the Men of Letters Bunker enjoying their free time quietly. Sam was reading a book off their dusty library while Dean read Busty Asian Beauties reclined in his chair with his booted feet on the long table. Dean then subconsciously glances up around the room as instinct to check his surrounds, when he finds a red hand ball in the corner of the room. His interest gravitates away from his magazine and to the ball, and he walks over, picks it up then sits back down with it. Sam glances up suspiciously at Dean then goes back to his book. Dean feels up the ball in his hand then tosses it at the wall in front of him, _cladonk dunk. _He then tosses the ball again and again. Sam lowers the book from his face and tucks a stray piece of shoulder length hair behind his ear.

"Come on man, stop that," Sam says.

All Dean does is look at Sam then continues to play catch with himself and the wall. Sam's eyes were daggers at his skull. After two, three, four more tosses of the ball, Sam slams his book down, and storms away from the table. Dean chuckles to himself and continues with his game of catch.

Sam went straight into Dean's room, knowing he had about only a half an hour to spare with Dean's attention span; he got to work at getting back at Dean through passive aggression. He started with the bed and turning it the opposite way it was before and soon the whole room was the opposite of what it used to be. Everything that was on the left was now on the right and vice versa. Surprisingly that only took twenty minutes and now all Sam had to do was wait. He then trailed down to his own room waiting to hear Dean's reaction. Like Sam had guessed ten minutes later Dean strutted into his room, Sam was too excited so he hid around the corner waiting for him. Dean's reaction was delayed but when it did come it boomed through the bunker.

"Damn it, Sam!" He swore.

Sam's cheeks dimpled when he heard the shout of anger, he then hurried to his room and tried to act natural. He heard the heavy, fast steps of his angry brother yet he couldn't help but laugh. He grabbed a random book from his shelf and flew onto his bed pretending like nothing happened when Dean swung in the room.

"What the hell?" Dean spat.

"Huh?" Sam slowly looked up from his book.

"What the hell did you do to my room?"

"Oh yeah that, well I asked you nicely once to stop with that ball while read."

"Arghh, you dick!"

Dean exited the room and slammed Sam's door shut knowing exactly what he was going to do. He grabbed the keys to his baby and headed to a beauty supply shop. He remembered seven or eight years ago plotting to avenge his brother at bothering him with a simple action but then forgot for a long time. How he remembered now, he didn't know but he was happy he did. Finding a strip of outlets a few miles out he strolled into a beauty supply shop, getting strange looks as he did so. As quickly as he could he bought Nair, a black beanie, and cheap hair extensions, happily he drove home. As he waited for Sam to fall asleep he took that time to cut the hair extensions down to Sam's hair length with one of his hunting knives. Amazingly they were just about the perfect match to his little brother's milk chocolate hair. Sleep didn't come to Sam until about 1:00 a.m. but when Dean heard the lack of shoveling papers, feet, and tapping of keyboard keys after a while he jumped at his chance to get things done.

He quietly strolled into his sleeping brother's room, (thank god for non-squeaky doors!) and took the extensions and placed them around his pillows, Dean smiled as he did so. Next, he went to the bathroom to replace Sam's shampoo with Nair, he remembered tampering with his brothers shampoo as a child. He chuckled at that memory. Lastly, he pulled an all-nighter waiting for the awakening of Sam.

He jumped awake to a shriek of horror realizing that he dozed off for half the night. In seconds he was awake being proud of what he did.

"Dean!" Sam roared.

Sam still with bed head ran into to Dean.

"You freaking cut my hair?" Sam says grabbing his head.

Dean doubled over in laughter at his brother.

"No I didn't, I was just playing with you." He said in between chuckles while holding up the packet the cheap extensions came in.

"Oh, gosh, you are a dick," Sam said in relief.

"I know," he replied.

Sam sighed, "I'm going to take a shower."

Dean again sat back and waited.

"Holy shit, it burns!" Sam shouted over running water.

"No, no, no, Dean!"

Dean grabbed the beanie he previously bought and strolled down to the bathroom. He knocked at the door and it swung open showing a wet Sam holding tuffs of his actual hair in his hands with a towel wrapped around his waist. It looked as if birds and a mad hair dresser attacked Sam's head. Dean held up the beaning and went into a hysterical fit of laughter.

"Dude what the hell? I get what the last prank was for but this one? Fuck you!" Sam was red, and steaming.

"Whoa, don't get feisty with me, Samantha. Remember seven or eight years ago when you sat at that motel table blowing away at your Bieber bangs and I told you to stop or you will regret it?"

Sam took a second to jog his memory, surprisingly that time slid right back to him with ease and he palmed his hand into his forehead.

"Dude, that was freaking _years_ ago, grow up!"

"Hey, I did grow up but with revenge in my heart, so enjoy wearing this hat for the next year," Dean handed Sam the beanie then walked off sniggering.

Sam dried of and got dressed for the day then he remembers his hair. He trotted over to the bathroom mirror to see the damage that was done. There were bald spots and thin areas all over his head. He then took the beanie and slid it on his head then looked up into the mirror to inspect how it looked.

"Huh," he paused inspecting some more, "not bad."

The beanie sat nicely on his head as if it were almost made for him. The ends of his hair stuck out in the back of the hat just right. He turned around to see different angles and liked how he looked. Yet he would have to wear a hat everywhere he went. He then left the bathroom ready to leave for whatever was planned for the day.

"Here we go," he said, just another hiccup in his already messed up life.

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